


Thrice Upon a Time

by kallooh



Category: The Fairyland Series - Catherynne M. Valente
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallooh/pseuds/kallooh
Summary: A princess (or a queen, or a marquess) sleeps a magical sleep on a bier in a wood. And what then?
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Thrice Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Satchelfoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satchelfoot/gifts).



> Dear Satchelfoot, Happy Yuletide! Your request had me wanting to know more about what happened with the Marquess after the first book - not only how she woke, but how she slept.
> 
> This is set after The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making and The Girl Who Ruled Fairyland - for a Little While. As there are many books after those, this is an AU.

The writers of old do not say whether Snow White dreamed while she lay in her glassy bier. She did, in fact, dream. She dreamt of cooking and sweeping and singing in the little house with her friends the dwarves. She dreamt of happier days in the palace, before her mother died, when they would sew together and dry flowers and her mother would read her stories before bed. She dreamt of a future that she did not recognize, in a castle with the handsome prince she had once seen. And she dreamed of an apple, so bright and red, though her dream always ended after she took only one bite. 

So the Marquess had no inclination, when she magicked herself to sleep, that she too would dream. In an early dream a man with wolf ears let her read all of his books and taught her magic. Next they lived in a castle, and she was called Good Queen Mallow, and the Leopard of Little Breezes accompanied her in her travels throughout the kingdom.

_As his sister had surmised, Iago, the Panther of Rough Storms, took the sleeping Mallow to a wood. He laid her on a bier of soft cloths. She lay as still as when she first fell by the Lonely Gaol._

She dreamt of the time she had gone into a forest and, in a little clearing filled with late roses, came across a tree with a long, narrow, black opening that looked like it had been created by a lightning strike. She thought she saw a gleam in the opening and walked over to investigate. She stepped one foot through the opening and found it was quite large enough for her to enter. Mallow was confident enough in her magic to walk down the dirt path in the tree and familiar enough with Fairyland not to be surprised at a path inside a tree. She walked for what felt like a day and night and another day, though it was hard to say as there was only a steady soft dim light on the path. After a time she came upon a bush and on top of the bush was a book. She picked it up, and found the book was actually a box made to look like a book. She looked for a lock that she might pick with her hairpins and found none. She thought for a time, having spent a good while by then reading the books of a certain wizard and thus was familiar with magical objects and how to approach them. Finally she nodded to herself, and stroked the book as if it were a cat and whispered encouraging words, as she might entice a cat to come closer for pets and treats. After a few moments a catch appeared near the edge, and she opened the box to find a large sewing needle inside. Mallow slipped the needle in the sash around her waist, like a sword, and skipped back out into the clearing.

She dreamt of when she first became Good Queen Mallow and went around the kingdom healing the damage done by the former King Goldmouth. She took up her needle and sewed closed the gaps and patched over holes, to make a kingdom that was stronger and safer. She organized feasts and laughed at pookas doing gymnastics and grew to wholeheartedly love her land. 

Maud dreamt of her life on the tomato farm, dreary days and worse nights when her father would be foul tempered. She dreamt too of being away at school, of checking out books of fairytales from the library and scanning them avidly to learn all the ways that children got into Fairyland. One of the other girls taunted her for reading books for little children and Maud snapped back an insult that had the girl flouncing away. Her dream turned then to the other girl’s perspective, and Maud saw what she had not known, that the girl’s father was much like her own. After Maud’s insult the girl went to an empty classroom and cried.

_On the bier, Mallow’s face took on a sad expression._

The Marquess dreamed of her second reign in Fairyland, and pleasant moments with Iago. She dreamt of the anger that she felt when she first returned, and of how it seemed to feel good to make new laws about who could fly, put gnomes in charge of the border, and strike down anyone who spoke against her. It seemed to feel good but that feeling didn’t last, so she had to make more rules and strike down more citizens who spoke against her. Again, her dreams changed to another’s perspective and she felt the sadness of the witches after she killed their brothers, the pain of those whose wings were bound, the fear of nearly all throughout Fairyland. She heard citizens whispering of the time when Good Queen Mallow ruled, and for the first time she was not angry to hear it, only sad. 

_A tear rolled down the cheek of the sleeping girl._

Mallow dreamed of a little village by the seaside. She did not recognize it. The villagers moved about the village quietly, almost furtively. There is something not right - she realized the village was half in ruins that looked fresh, not old and worn. She began to feel as she did when she realized she had to take care of the former King Goldmouth. She must make this right, she must go to this village. Except - except -

“Except I am supposed to sleep until my enemies have all perished and the sun rises over my perfect, innocent face once more.” Mallow found herself sitting up in a bier in a wood. She looked around and saw her friend and once husband, now with more grey on his wolf’s ears. “Did you wake me with a kiss?” she asked.

He took her hand. “Mallow, my darling. You woke yourself.”

She frowned. “I think Fairyland was telling me to go to a village but I am not sure where. Can you help me get there?”

He pulled out a piece of parchment and licked his pen until the ink flowed. “Of course.”

The wind started to blow through the trees and Iago landed lightly by Mallow and Sir Map. He peered at the parchment, and said, “I can fly us all there.” 

Iago flew on the wind the rest of the day and through the night. Sir Map dozed but Mallow didn’t - she had slept for months and months and was thrilled to feel the cool wind on her cheeks and see the stars above and look down on the land she loved. 

As the sun came up they reached the town. Iago landed on the road at what looked like the edge of the town. The three of them walked along the road for a few minutes. The townspeople seemed to be ignoring them, until suddenly an older woman in a no nonsense tweed suit stepped in front of them. “Hullo! Welcome to the town of Bulrush! What brings you to our village?”

Even though it was Fairyland, and there could be several maidens laid out on biers in magical slumber waiting to be awakened at any given point in time (there were at least two others when Iago first set Mallow on her bier), Mallow did not really want to explain how she came to dream of the village. Instead she chose the time honored tradition of answering with another question.

“What kind of name is Bulrush for a town?”

“Oh!” the woman straightened up. “It’s where all the changeling children end up whose are switched with fae babies being left in baskets on the water.”

“Wait - so Moses was a changeling?”

“I’m not saying yes and I’m not saying no, but you have to admit that parting a sea is no small feat.”

Mallow changed the subject to the current state of the village. “What happened here that led to all this destruction?”

“A young kraken escaped from his nurse shark nurse, came to the beach, and thought the houses were blocks to play with. It knocked down several houses and buildings while crying out what we think is the kraken language translation of ‘Fee fi fo fum’, though our one expert on sea languages is very old and rather hard of hearing so that might not have been what the little monster was saying.” The old woman nodded emphatically.

The trio were silent for a moment. “Ma’am” Sir Map began. 

“Mayor,” the woman clarified.

“Mayor. Is there something we can do to help? Does the kraken need slaying?”

“Good gracious no. It’s already been put in time out for a goodly time and the nurse shark has been sacked and replaced by a tiger shark - much keener nose you know - no need for slaying. If you have any stonewright or masonry capabilities, why that would be useful. If not, well, enjoy your stay. Now I must be off to finish tallying the damage on the north corner.”

The mayor hurried off. Mallow, Sir Map, and Iago huddled together. “I can draw maps to places that have stone or bricks to help rebuild. I fear I have no skill in carpentry or other trades.”

Iago spoke next. “I thought this would be a traditional monster slaying kind of quest. I can bring storms and wind but have never concerned myself with repairing the damage after the storm leaves.”

They looked at Mallow. “It’s true that when I was queen I sewed Fairyland back together. Now - now I am out of practice in rebuilding and I no longer have the needle that allowed me to do it.”

Sir Map smiled a little smile. “Pfffffft. Mallow, my sweet, the needle augmented your magic at the start. As you stitched and patched and mended, your magic grew until, although you may not have realized it, you could have done it all on your own.”

Mallow’s mouth dropped open.

“How do you think you were so successful at destroying things when you were the Marquess?” Iago asked. “When you understand how a thing is made, it is so much easier to tear it apart.”

Mallow looked around at the little village and the people placing bricks and repairing walls with their bare hands. “A needle might not be necessary, but it can be extremely helpful.” She ran her hand along Iago’s back and raised her hand with a long sturdy needle of the sort to sew rugs and canvas and other robust articles. “Let’s put this village back together.”


End file.
